


R & R

by ifitwasribald



Category: Doctor Who (2005), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Torchwood
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, M/M, Oral Sex, Rimming, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-07
Updated: 2012-07-07
Packaged: 2017-11-09 09:31:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/453969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ifitwasribald/pseuds/ifitwasribald
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“Sir, there's a man in the lobby dressed like an RAF pilot. He says his name is Captain Harkness. Do I send him in or have him escorted out?”</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	R & R

**Author's Note:**

> This fic arose from a kinkmeme prompt, which in turn was inspired by the awesome Memos From Fury tumblr (http://memosfromfury.tumblr.com/post/22574038525/sir-theres-a-man-in-the-lobby-dressed-like-a-world). Credit to both.
> 
> Set after the Avengers movie, and at some point post-CoE for Jack. Vague spoilers for both.

The intercom buzzed. “Sir, there's a man in the lobby dressed like an RAF pilot. He says his name is Captain Harkness. Do I send him in or have him escorted out?”

Nick Fury took a deep breath and pressed the intercom button. “I’ll deal with it.” He turned the intercom back off with a quick jab and started to rise, but a thought occurred, and he turned back and activated the intercom again. “Do not, under any circumstance, allow him to flirt with any of our agents.”

The instruction had probably been in vain, Fury realized. That was confirmed moments later when he opened the door to his outer office to find Jack already engaged in conversation with two junior agents, both of whom were more than a little flushed.

“What do you want, Harkness?”

The junior agents practically jumped, and quickly discovered that they had urgent business to attend to elsewhere. Harkness himself looked less bothered by Fury’s tone than he would have liked. “Social call,” Harkness answered breezily. “Can we--” he eyed Fury’s door.

Fury sighed and led the way into his office. “I was starting to think you’d given up on being a pain in my ass. Figured with your operation down you’d thrown in the towel on world saving. Or got yourself killed, one or the other.”

“Both, actually. Didn't take.”

Fury rolled his good eye heavenward. He was never entirely sure how seriously to take the younger man--or older, if his intel was accurate, a possibility that Fury was just beginning to take seriously.

“Besides, I didn’t much care for your last office” Harkness added. Fury realized that Harkness really did seem to avoid the Helicarrier. The man could track him down in every top secret, ridiculously inaccessible, impossibly secure base they had, but he’d never set foot on the Helicarrier even when it was in the water. Fury wondered again if the preposterous rumors about what had happened on the Valiant could be true.

“Anyway, your people did well in New York.” 

Fury acknowledged that with a curt nod.

“I heard about Coulson.” Harkness added quietly.

Fury simply nodded again, but he could feel his whole body tense up, and knew Harkness could see it too.

“Maria’s worried about you.”

“Since when are you and Agent Hill buddies?”

Harkness gave him a look that said that that was a stupid question, and Fury had to admit to himself that it was. “She knows how to find me.”

“So do I. Was there a point to this social call?”

“There is. If you don’t figure out a way to let off a little steam, you’re going to snap so hard it’s going to make Loki look good.”

“I’m fine, Harkness. Go find someone else to play your little games with.”

“I know S.H.I.E.L.D.’s been keeping tabs on me, and I know you see the reports,” Harkness’s voice was quiet now. “You and I have a lot in common. Tell me you’ve found even one thing that makes the the voice in your head shut up about what you did and what you couldn’t do,” his voice wavered just slightly before he recovered himself, “and I’ll get the hell out.” Jack grinned without a trace of humor, “hell, you could share with the rest of the class, I could use it.”

Fury didn’t answer.

“You used to find me very distracting.”

“That was a long time ago.”

“Longer for me.” Jack grinned, and this time he seemed to mean it. “All the more reason to get reacquainted. I’ve picked up some new tricks.”

It was tempting. But there was a reason he didn’t go in for that sort of distraction anymore.

Jack seemed to know what he was thinking. “I’m not a civilian. And I don’t report to you."

Jack closed the distance between them in two steps and slipped a hand inside Fury’s coat, resting it lightly on his hip. Fury told himself to push the other man away, but instead he just swallowed and watched Jack expectantly. 

Jack gave him a warm smile, and Fury had to admit it was a thing of beauty. Jack’s eyes didn’t leave Fury’s face as he slid his hand up under Fury’s shirt, giving a soft hum of approval as he reached Fury’s skin. For a moment he just stood there, the only motion his thumb idly skimming Fury’s stomach.

Fury coughed pointedly, and Jack’s smile widened to his trademark leer. “A man who gets to the point--I like it.” Jack’s practiced hands went to work at Fury’s belt, and had his pants open and his now half-hard cock out in what seemed like one smooth motion. Jack knelt gracefully and brought his lips to Fury’s cock.

Fury leaned back against his desk, gripping it with both hands, as Jack’s hot mouth enveloped him. It was good--Jack was an artist, and an archivist too, maybe. It had been years, but he seemed to remember exactly what Fury liked. The extra pressure slightly off-center along the underside of his cock, Jack’s lips closing hard around just the right spot, almost but not quite at the base. The thumb rubbing the place where his cock met his balls, and the careful finger behind them, pressing just right. The extra suction just at the right moment that should have tipped him over the edge.

But didn’t.

Fury groaned in frustration, and released the desk to gently push Jack away. It was good, but there was too much going on, too many strategies to consider, too many risks to weigh. He couldn’t let all of that go, even for Jack’s very talented mouth.

He considered explaining—he probably owed Jack that much—but saw in the other man’s eyes that he didn’t have to. That was one problem down, but Jack’s sympathy didn’t do much for Fury’s frustration. Most of his brain was already back to determining which reports most urgently needed his review, but his cock was still achingly hard. “Oh, fuck me,” he murmured to himself.

“Not a bad suggestion,” Jack offered gently.

Fury’s reply was a glare stony enough to make even Jack back down. But suddenly the thought of returning to his reports right now seemed intolerable, as badly overdue as most of them were. “Okay.”

And in a moment he was flush against the desk, his pants at his ankles and Jack’s clever fingers behind him, slick with something that tingled pleasantly. For a moment Jack’s fingers ghosted over his tight ring of muscle, dipping in only very slightly before returning to a slow circle around Fury’s hole.

“Sometime today, Harkness.”

“Patience!” Jack admonished teasingly, and gave Fury’s ass a little slap. That gesture was better corroboration of Jack’s alleged immortality than any report--Fury was sure no mortal man would have dared. 

That train of thought was abruptly derailed by another sensation in his ass, hotter and wetter and just obscene. Fury grabbed the far edge of the desk and gripped it tight, cursing incoherently. “Fuck, Harkness, damn, you--fuck--kinky bastard, ohgodfuck do. not. stop.”

Jack didn’t stop, and pleasure swept over Fury, the exquisite sensations, the novelty, and the sheer wrongness finally combining to push all thoughts of reports and rosters out of his mind. Fury’s cock twitched, and Jack reached around and up to grasp it, giving a quick tug that almost pushed Fury over before firmly gripping the base to pull him back from the edge.

Fury positively growled, and he felt Jack’s hot breath as he laughed softly without stopping what he was doing. One of Jack’s fingers returned, pushing into him while Jack’s tongue continued to circle the outer ring of muscle. Fury made a small sound that was definitely not begging as he felt a second finger slowly reach in. 

Jack’s fingers quickly found exactly the right spot, and Fury bucked backwards, moaning. It was thoroughly undignified, but for once Fury could not bring himself to give a fuck. Receiving a fuck, on the other hand, was very much on his mind, and he didn’t hesitate to let Jack know. “God, Jack, fuck me now, or I swear--” his threat was interrupted by a groan as Jack added a third finger and did something that Fury couldn’t identify but which went straight to his brain in a burst of sparks. Recovering himself finally, he concluded “--or I will make you regret it, Jack--ohgodfuck me NOW.”

“Yessir,” Jack murmured and withdrew. Fury heard the snap of latex, and almost immediately felt the head of Jack’s cock pressing slowly into him. Jack let out a string of curses himself, but soft, reverent ones, as he slid into Fury as far as he could go.

“NOW!” Fury repeated, and Jack’s answering “yes sir” was a little louder. Jack pulled nearly out before slamming back in, grabbing Fury’s hips firmly to establish an aggressive rhythm. “You feel so--” Jack managed, “holy fuck, Fury--” and cut off again with a groan.

An instant before, Fury would have said that he couldn’t possibly be more turned on, but now he knew better, because it was like he could feel Jack’s obvious enjoyment on top of his own, every noise the other man made going straight to his dick. He could feel his balls tighten, and his moans were shorter and quicker and had gone up probably half an octave. Jack’s thrusts felt wild and desperate, but unerringly grazed his prostate, making Fury shiver and moan with each stroke.

Jack’s hands left Fury’s hips as Jack bent over him, chest pressed against Fury’s back, still pounding into Fury but with shorter strokes, never pulling out far. Jack’s mouth was close enough to Fury’s ear that he thought he could feel Jack’s breath. “So good, oh so good,” he felt as much as heard Jack murmur.

“Jack, fuck, Jack, I need--” Fury couldn’t finish, but he didn’t have to. Jack reached down to grab Fury’s cock with one hand, his other hand returning to Fury’s hip for leverage to lengthen his strokes without slowing down. Fury let out a long moan, trying and completely failing to form words of any kind. Jack’s hand was stroking him expertly, exactly the way he liked, while his prostate sent sparks at all the right moments. It took only a few strokes before Fury bucked uncontrollably, cock throbbing and spilling seed across the floor of his office. Jack let out a groan so obscene that Fury was sure he could never forget it as he buried himself deep in Fury and pulsed through his own climax.

A moment later they would be all business--nonchalant agreement that they would surely run into one another again, a curt dismissal, and a friendly mock-salute. But for that moment they remained pressed together, sated and, if not at peace, at least briefly at rest.


End file.
